Albino With Blue
by Halfjaw101
Summary: Sarah Buckby: a normal teenager until the Infection came - now she's a Witch, with very little memory of anything. She meets the first four survivors and, being shown kindness, sticks to them, hoping to find the rest of it.
1. Informal Introductions

**_Unlike most stories - and assumptions - Ellis and the others will be making no entrance in this story. Enjoy._**

* * *

_Who was I...? Where was I...? I don't... Sarah Buckby. My name was Sarah Buckby. I was sixteen years old. I had a boyfriend named Jerome; he died. Parents: dead. Friends: dead. Me: ... what was I?_

The scene: a dark city street. Two weeks after the Green Flu breakout. Bodies littered the road; cars sat abandoned with their lights on, doors open, alarm blinker going. One out of every ten lamplight might've been lit. One person, one sole living being, walked the streets.

She continued walking, sobbing stridently, her arms close to her side. Her clothes were in tatters. A torn top rested loosely over her growing breasts; a white pair of panties was discernible under torn, nearly non-existent jeans. Her hair shimmered softly in the yellow lamplight, looking orange with golden highlights. She walked back into the dark, and the orange illusion left; her hair was truly white. She dropped an arm, letting it hang by her side. Her fingers were nearly six inches long. Three-inch claws had formed at the tips.

_**Poppop! Poppop! Rattata-BOOOOOOOOOOOM!**_

The girl screamed, looking around, her white hair flying wildly as she frantically searched around for the cause of the deafening sounds. She then started running, her hands over hear head. She ran for five minutes, then slowed, recognizing silence. She also recognized darkness. She collapsed, pulling one of her hideous claws up to cover her face, her white hair framing her dirty visage. Her pupils dilated, and suddenly went white as the light they collected reflected. She rested her other claw on her leg, then started sobbing again. The sobs were lonely and heartbreaking, wavering eerily into the dark night.

Hours crawled by. Light crept into the darkness. She whimpered, and covered her face, rising and walking around again. She heard something weird. She stopped, dropped her claws, and tilted her head. What was that sound? It had a name. G... gr... growling? That was it. She heard growling.

Growling from what?

She looked around, and saw something approaching her. The growling was coming from that. She screamed and ran again. She ducked inside somewhere, and hid under a desk. There she sat and cried again. She stopped crying, hearing voices. "Shh... hear that? I hear... a Witch."

She started crying again, the words having no meaning to her.

"Damn it! No! Leave her alone!"

She gasped and looked up as a chocolate-skinned man walked into her vision. The black guy stumbled back. "WITCH!"

He turned and ran. No one came back. She started crying again, feeling hated and more alone than ever. No one came through there again. She was left alone to wallow in self-pity, to cry her little heart out. She stopped crying again after a while - her stomach rumbled. She stood, and stumbled forward, her eyes watering from the harsh rays of the sun. She sniffed the air. A faint sweet smell tickled her nose, and she became oblivious to all but that. She wanted that sweet.

She stumbled forward, sniffing. Where was her Sweet? She walked on, for what seemed like forever, before the smell even strengthened. Encouraged, she continued, her hands folded against her chest like a hamster's. She sniffed the air, and took a few steps more. Suddenly, the sweet smell changed courses. Confused, she did as well. It then changed courses again, and she followed. Now she was going in the original direction again.

She looked around. She walked up to a pane of glass, and looked inside. People. She moved on, and sighed. She started humming to herself, the promise of food putting her in lifted spirits. She stumbled over corpses like they were nothing. She screamed and zipped forward when something grabbed at her ankle. She stopped soon, afraid she'd lose the smell. She saw some weird things as she walked. Bright colors. Happiness. Smiling faces. Did those even exist anymore? Happiness and smiles?

Down the street. Through an alley. Run. Stop. Down another street. It led her into a building. She walked around, hopeful that it was on the first floor. No such luck. She then wandered, searching for the stairs. Finding them, she began her ascent, her claw sliding absently along the rail. She dropped it when she reached the top, then sniffed. She hooked a left, into a room, then to the far wall. She looked around, and growled, irritated. The wall was gone. The smell was leading her back to the ground. She bent her knees, and dropped, landing with a sigh. She continued onward, humming to herself again, watching the ground idly. She took no notice of the voices she approached; her mind was on the sweet smell only.

She turned around a wall, and approached a door. She paused in front of it, then turned, sniffing. The smell was gone, masked by a different smell. One she'd smelled before. She frowned, then heard something mess with the door off to her left. She turned just as it opened. She gasped, and looked up. Her eyes widened, and she screamed. Her scream was cut short as she fell, fainting.

* * *

The muscular man in the vest who'd opened the door looked down at the limp pale white body. He'd watched those strange blue eyes look at him, then roll back in her head as she fainted. "Ah, hell."

He lifted her and slung her over his shoulder. He'd rather blast her full of lead... but she seemed different. For one, she hadn't attacked him, or even tried. She'd screamed and fainted. He then stopped, and pulled her back. White skin... blue eyes? He draped her over his shoulder again, and walked back to the others. This was great. This was just totally great.

He knocked his fist against the wall he was walking along three times as he neared the others: a black man, an old war veteran, and a pretty, young college student. "Hey, looky here what I found."

He walked to the table, and surprisingly gently laid his catch on it. The college girl gasped. "Francis, what the hell did you do to her?"

The guy in the vest held his hands up defensively. "I didn't do nuthin', I swear! She fainted when I opened the door!"

The black guy chuckled softly. "Yeah, right, and I'm president of Pluto."

The war veteran looked the girl over. "No... I think Francis here is telling the truth. Only wound I can see is on the back of her head. Had it been Francis, her skull'd be caved in."

Francis scowled. "I'm not _that _rough."

The college girl looked up at him. "Actually, biker boy, you are. Remember what my waist looked like after the first time?"

Francis blushed, an odd look on his face. "Don't remind me... I don't wanna think of being that rough with _you_."

The college girl grinned. The war veteran prodded her gently on the shoulder. "Zoey, do we have any bottled water?"

Zoey arched a brow, and gave him one. He opened the plastic container of the cold clear liquid, and poured a little on the white Witch's face. She gasped and came to. She saw Francis, and screamed, scrambling back, almost off the table. The war vet caught her. She looked behind her and screamed again, trying to pull away. But he held on tightly. "No, no, calm down. We're not gonna hurt ya."

She instantly quieted, sitting on the table, looking at them all. Francis huffed. "Huh. Obedient little bi-OW! Don't hit me, damn it!"

Zoey shook her hand slightly, stinging from the hard punch she'd just delivered to Francis' arm. "Then don't call her that. She's done nothing to you."

Francis arched a brow. "Maybe, but she's a Wiiiitch."

He held the word out some, pointing at the white girl on the table in an exaggerated fashion. She growled at him, causing him to jump back. Zoey chuckled. The war vet tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned, whimpering slightly and pulling away. He smiled kindly, holding the water out. "Drink?"

She looked at the water, then reached up to take it, pausing. She turned her hand at an awkward angle, trying to match his fingers to hers. He frowned, then pulled his hand away. Zoey grabbed his wrist. "Wait!"

She took the water bottle from his hand, then splayed it. The Witch pressed her clawed digits against it, frowning, staring at the difference in confusion. He turned his hand slightly, and his fingers accidentally slid between hers. Reflexively, she grasped it. The war vet jerked and tried to yank his hand back. The Witch watched him, then let go, her lip trembling. Zoey looked at the war vet. "Bill... she... It looks like she liked that. I think you hurt her feelings."

Francis chuckled. "Yeah right, what feelings? Towards Bill? Watch; it's general."

He held his hand out, fingers splayed. The Witch pressed hers to it. Francis purposely turned his hand and slid his fingers between hers. She grasped his hand as well, only this time tighter, looking into his eyes with those freaky deep ocean blues. Francis paused, the normal hard exterior melting away as he looked in her eyes, replaced by soft understanding. Zoey prodded his shoulder. "Uh, Francis...? Hello, Earth to Francis?"

Francis jerked, and the biker was back to normal. He gently pried her fingers from his, pulling his hand back. He cleared his throat. "See? I told you... it's general."

He looked back at the Witch. Her eyes were swimming and dropping tears periodically. He sighed, then grabbed the water bottle and held it up. "Drink?"

The Witch reached up to take it, but Francis pulled it away. She let her hands drop, her lip trembling, wondering why they kept teasing her. Francis shook his head. "Don't try and take it, girl. Just drink. I'll hold it."

He held it out to her again. She leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the bottle's end - it was the kind you had to suck on or squeeze to get the water out. She reached up and wrapped her hands around Francis' wrists, then began to suckle on the bottle like a lamb to a milk bottle, without all the dribbling. She did dribble, just not as much.

Francis watched her as she swallowed, looking like she was swallowing golf balls instead of water. She gripped his wrists tighter, but still remained gentle, gently tugging on the bottle as she drank.

Bill frowned softly. "Only thing I've ever seen drink like that was a hand-reared foal on my grandad's land."

Francis scowled. "Haven't you noticed that people act more animal-like nowadays, old man?"

Bill sighed. "Yes, I've noticed the Infection brings the primitive side out. Rabies does that to you. But... this? This is **infantile **animal behavior."

Francis shrugged and watched the Witch with an odd smile and she neared the last of the water content. Zoey frowned. "Francis, are you okay? You're acting..."

"All mushy over that Witch," finished the black guy.

Francis scowled. "Shut up, Louis. I'm not acting mushy... I'm just being nice."

The college girl arched a brow, then shrugged her shoulders. "Francis, for you? Nice _is _mushy. You've said so yourself."

Francis frowned, then went back to watching the Witch suckle the water bottle. Her eyes were slightly closed, and water occasionally dribbled from the corners of her mouth, sliding down her throat and soaking her top. When she neared then end of the bottle, then finished it, she frowned. She suckled a little more, then sighed and pushed it away, wiping her mouth. She then reached forward, and attempted to hug Francis.

But Francis wasn't having any of that. He grabbed her arms, and shoved her back. "Hey, hey!"

The Witch picked herself back up, sitting on the table. She stuck her lower lip out, and tears formed in her strange blue eyes, spilling over and sliding down her cheeks. She started sobbing quietly; all she'd wanted was a hug. She wrapped her arms about herself, and started rocking softly, staring at him and crying. Francis grew uneasy under the teary gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked away, but he still felt it. He sighed, dropped his hand, and looked back at her. "Fine... I'll give ya a hug."

He walked forward. The Witch's grin nearly split her face, her tears stopped. She rose to her knees, threw her arms wide, and wrapped them tightly around Francis. He grunted softly at how strong her grip was from those twig-thin arms. He looked at her mane of white hair, then wrapped his arms around her, returning the hug. Zoey gasped softly. "No way!"

The Witch kept the hug, and so did he. Soon she was crying. He loosened his hold, but she tightened hers. He grunted again, but tightened his hold, rubbing her back gently. He looked up at them. "Why do I always make people cry?"

He was slightly stumped from their smiles. Louis chuckled softly. "You wouldn't be asking that if you could see her smile, Francis."

Francis frowned, and looked down, pulling away slightly to look. It was the biggest, happiest grin he'd ever seen surrounded by tears. His own eyes got a little moist, but he kept himself under control. He rubbed her back gently, and she gave him a squeeze, then loosened again. She reached up, placed a kiss on his cheek, then drew back, letting go, tears still falling.

Francis grunted, a slight smile on his lips, and nodded, running a hand quickly over his eyes. "She's nice. Huh. Never knew Infected were..."

The Witch tilted her head, and looked at him. He smiled softly, but it quickly disappeared. "Capable of emotions other than rage," he finished.

Francis sighed, and backed away. The Witch's lip started trembling, and Francis frowned softly. Louis came forward, and smiled softly when the Witch's arms wrapped around him instead. He patted her back gently. "Hey now... it's okay. It's not that he doesn't like you. He's just not used to giving or receiving hugs."

Francis frowned, then shrugged. "It's true. I'm not."

The Witch still didn't look all that happy. Louis rubbed her back gently, then looked at her and kissed the top of her head. He felt her body go rigid, and tried to pull back to see what he'd done. Her eyes were bright and moist, and fireworks seemed to be going off in them. Francis looked and laughed. "Seems you got yourself an electric kiss there, Manager."

Louis frowned, and leaned back enough to look at the Witch's face. He chuckled softly, and resumed rubbing her back. The Witch loosened, and looked up at him, her blue eyes locking with his brown ones. Louis smiled as she dropped her arms. He then backed up just a little, still close enough she could hug him again, and cleared his throat. "I'm Louis."

He held his hand out. The Witch gingerly took it, and shook. She frowned. "L... Lll... Llllouisss...?"

Louis grinned. "Yes, my name is Louis."

The Witch let go of his hand. "Llouiss," she said with much greater lucidity.

Francis watched them, arching a brow. He cleared his throat, getting the white Witch's attention, and held his hand out in the same manner. "My name is Francis."

She gently shook his hand. He found himself surprised at how gentle she could be. She looked at him for a while, and he was about to repeat his name when she opened her mouth the speak. "F... Fffffr... Ffffraannnnccisss..."

Francis smiled and nodded. Encouraged by the big man's smile, she said it again. "Ffranciss..."

Francis smile widened, and she giggled softly, earning stares. She looked around, confused. Zoey smiled softly, and held her hand out. "Hi. I'm Zoey."

The Witch shook her hand. "Hhiii, Z... Zzoooh... Zzzoeeeeey..."

Zoey grinned, and gripped the girl's hand. The Witch looked at her her hand, then gently gripped hers. "Zzooooeyy..."

She smiled softly, and Francis chuckled. "Seems your name is harder, Zo."

She frowned and looked up at him. "Shut up, Francine."

The Witch frowned, and looked back at Francis, confused. "Ffraancciiiinne?" she asked, pointing at Francis.

Francis pointed to himself, brows up. "Me? No, I-" He started laughing, running his hand over his hair. "N-no, my name is not Francine. It's Francis."

Everyone, except the Witch, chuckled. Zoey pulled the Witch's hand over to Bill, and the Witch turned. This time, it was the Witch who held her hand out. Bill looked at it, then the Witch, his thumbs hooked into his belt. The Witch tilted her head, and pushed her hand slightly forward, saying with her actions she wanted him to shake it. Bill continued looking between her claw and her. After a few moments of this, then Witch slowly drew it back, her lip trembling again.

Zoey sighed. "Bill! Just shake her hand. She's not going to kill you. Do we look killed?"

Bill looked at them, then jumped slightly when the Witch sniffled and whimpered. "Biiiillllll," she said, almost clear on her first try.

He sighed, a soft smile playing with his bearded lips. He slowly reached forward and grasped the Witch's bony white hand. She gripped his tightly but gently, and shook it. "Bill," she said with perfect clarity, smiling.

Bill nodded and smiled. The Witch seemed to giggle with joy at seeing his smile, which caused it to strengthen and warm. The Witch gently tugged Bill forward, and hugged him. He went rigid for a few seconds, then loosened, and patted her back. She let go. He cleared his throat. "So. You know our names. Tell us yours?"

The Witch opened her mouth to say it, then paused. What _was _her name? "Sss..." Yes... it started with an 'S'. What came after?

Francis frowned. "Did she just go snake on us?"

Louis shook his head. "No... she's thinking. It looks like she forgot."

The Witch thought harder. "Saarrrrr..."

Zoey frowned. "Sar... Sarah? Is your name Sarah?"

_**Ting! **_The Witch perked, and nodded. "Yesss... mmy naaamesss Ssarrah..."

Francis nodded, smiling. "Nice to meet ya, Sarah... um, what's your last name?"

Louis arched a brow. "Does it matter, Francis?"

He shrugged. "No, I just want to see if she remembers."

Sarah frowned, tears spilling when she couldn't remember her last name. Louis jumped slightly when Sarah's arms wrapped around his waist, then hugged her back, rubbing her back to soothe and stop her crying. Francis sighed. "How come I always make people cry?"

Zoey went to answer, a mischievous look to her eye, but Francis cupped his hand over her mouth. "No one wants to hear that, Zo."

She smiled and licked his hand. He kissed the top of her head, and wiped his hand on his jeans. Louis went to take a step back but Sarah tightened her grip. Louis held her arms. "We... should continue... Francis'll carry you."

Francis looked up from Zoey's face. "Wait, what? I'll do what?"

Louis smirked. "You'll carry Sarah."

Bill frowned. "I don't know, Louis. I don't like the idea of an Infected in the team..."

Louis gently brought one of Sarah's hands out. "Bill, look at these. Think of how much damage she could deal with these things, to help us. She likes us. Why leave her when we could make it better for her?"

He helped Sarah off the table. Francis picked his shotgun up, and pumped it. "I know how to make it easier for her."

He pointed the gun at her head. She turned, saw it, and screamed, and rushed behind Louis. Seconds later, there was a dull thud and a sharp slap. Sarah had fainted once again, and Zoey had reached up and slapped him as hard as she could across the face, leaving an angry red mark.

Zoey gripped her wrist, staring at her hand. It stung like mad. Francis growled, then fisted his hand and swung it at Zoey. The college girl squeaked and ducked, just barely dodging. Francis growled, and shot his hand at her throat, closing around it. He lifted her. "You. Don't. Hit. Me."

He flung her down, and she gasped, hearing something in her arm snap. Bills scowled at Francis, and punched him hard in the gut. The biker fell to his knees, winded, gasping in air.

Louis knelt, gently nudging the pale Witch on the floor. "Sarah...? Sarah, are you okay?"

She wasn't out long. Soon her blue eyes fluttered open, and she smiled softly, Louis' chocolate mug the first thing she saw. Then she looked to the side, and saw Francis trying to get at Zoey, Bill between. She growled, then screamed. The three brawlers stopped, and looked at her, something akin to fright in their eyes. She stood, and wobbled. Louis helped her, and she smiled softly, then scowled again. "Ssstooop. Sstop f-ffffiiighting. You," she said, pointing a claw at Francis, who actually gulped. "Yyoou d-dooon't hiiiiiit giiirllllss... Yoou," she said, pointing at Zoey. "Doon't hiiit F-Ffff-Fraaanciiine... gets hiim maaad..."

She blinked. That had taken something, but she'd actually managed to get it out. Francis blinked, staring at her, then scowled. "Do _not _call me Francine."

Louis sighed. "Francis, stop. Everyone, stop. We need to get moving. And I don't feel like leaving Sarah behind. No more pointing your shotgun at her, Francis, that wasn't very nice."

Francis started laughing. "You think I care if it was nice or not? She's a Witch! She doesn't even deserve for me to point my shotgun at her!"

Sarah jerked, and her lip started trembling. Her big blue eyes started filling with tears, shimmering in the light. Francis frowned, suddenly not angry anymore. Not at her, leastways. "Sarah... I... Listen. I-I'm... sorry..."

Sarah sniffled, hiding behind Louis, and choked out a soft sob, trying not to cry. She looked away, not wanting to look at him anymore. Louis rubbed her shoulder gently. "We have to get moving. Bill?"

Bill nodded, holding his cigarette and coughing. "Louis is right. We have to move. C'mon kids... there's still a ways yet."

Louis nodded, then looked at Sarah. "Sarah... can Francis carry you?"

She shook her head, holding on to him tightly. He sighed, then crouched. "Alright then, climb aboard. Just try not to stick me, okay?" He smiled softly.

Sarah returned his smile, then carefully folded her arms around his neck, holding her hands. He stood, frowning. "You're light... you feel too light."

She frowned. "Nnnooo foooodd."

Louis frowned deeply. "No food? Guys, do we have anything?"

Zoey frowned softly. "What do Witches eat?"

"Ssssuuugaaarrrr..."

They shook their heads. "No... we have no sugar. But we'll keep an eye out for some. Let's go."

Louis started walking, Zoey and Bill ahead of him, Francis bringing up the rear. Sarah rested her head on the black man's shoulder, breathing in his scent, closing her eyes. Louis looked at her, and smiled softly, rubbing a leg gently. The Witch opened her vivid blue eyes, looking into his soft brown ones.

Louis looked at her face. It was soft and round, young. She couldn't've been out of highschool. He looked ahead, watching Zoey hold an enthusiastic one-sided conversation with Bill.

He thought about Bill. William 'Bill' Overbeck, a veteran of the US Army Special Forces Group. It was quite an honor, in his mind, to meet him, let alone fight with him. For being his age - around sixty, at the least - he was incredibly fit and physical, with larger flights of stairs and prolonged running/climbing being the only things to fatigue him quickly.

Then the college girl, Zoey. She wouldn't tell her last name, only where she'd been. She'd been in college, but had spent most of the time skipping classes and watching old horror movies, specifically the ones involving zombies. _I guess she was studying the right subject after all_, Louis thought, chuckling softly.

And Francis. Again, no last name. Even if he hadn't said a word to them, his past was pretty easy to tell: stained muscle shirt, 'Hell's Legion' tattooed in several places on him, black leather vest, jeans, boots. All that amalgamating to biker. He was rough - though gentle with Zoey - and crude, not stepping down, and loved a good brawl. A lot of the times, with the Common Infected, he'd save his ammo and go toe-to-toe with the bastards, crushing faces and heads with his hands and feet. He was a good guy to have around, and he was hilarious in his ignorance at times.

Himself. A systems analyst who'd been too cowardly to quit his job. Now, here he was, giving a Witch a piggy-back ride, holding guns and using them against people. _Well, _he corrected himself. _I wouldn't call them 'people' so much as 'creatures' now. So, if I put it that way, it doesn't seem as bad._

He heard an excited giggle from Zoey. "Hey! I can see a safe house! C'mon, let's run to it."

Bill interjected. "Young lady, I cannot see the reason behind running to a safe house that's maybe thirty yards away."

Zoey sighed dejectedly. "Yeah... I forgot that's a bit far for you."

Bill frowned softly. "I never said that..."

Zoey grinned. "Then what are we waiting for?" Before anyone could say anything, she was taking off towards the red metal door.

Bill sighed, and Louis quickened his pace slightly. "I'll stay back here with you. She might be light, but I still can't safely run."

Bill nodded. "Thanks, kid."

Francis ran past them, and Zoey came back out, holding a jar of some liquid. Sarah instantly stiffened, and was off his back in a flash, running her fastest towards the safe house.

Louis chuckled. "Feeding time for the Witch."

Both he and Bill paused as they heard a roar, and the ground started shaking. Sarah looked around in horror, her hands raised from trying to get the jar from Zoey, and quickly darted through the door. Zoey followed, and Francis stayed at the door. "C'mon, you guys, hurry up! You've got a- TANK!"

Bill and Louis whirled just as the prodigious pink Infected raised a fist and bashed it against Louis. The black man tumbled away while Bill ran his fastest towards the safe house. Francis closed the door as the Tank remained on Louis, pounding him into the ground. His howl of pain ended abruptly as the blood-thirsty monster crushed his chest with one final blow.

Sarah stuck her arm through the bars, screaming, horror in her eyes, reaching out for the broken black man. Francis and Bill pointed their weapons out, and started shooting at the Tank, downing it. Sarah opened the door, and ran out to Louis. Francis chased her.

Sarah fell to her knees where Louis lay. Louis looked at her, still alive, albeit barely. Francis slowly dropped behind her, his visage that of sorrow, rubbing her shoulders as the Witch began to sob, rocking back and forth. She then turned to Francis, hiding her face against his not-diminutive belly. Francis wrapped his arms around her, then pulled her up to cry on his shoulder so he could stand. "It's not fair, Manager... you were supposed to stick it out to the end... you weren't supposed to leave this little girl alone. Or us, for that matter."

Louis' bleeding stopped, except for that which leaked out by gravity, and his eyes dulled. Francis cleared his throat as he stood, holding Sarah comfortingly, her thin white shoulders bobbing, her chest heaving with pained sobs and cries. He rubbed his eyes, then turned and walked back, closing the door behind him and locking it.

Zoey looked at them as they walked in, then scooched on the couch to provide room for Francis. The big biker dropped down slowly, stretching his legs out and letting them rest, rubbing the Witch's back. The college girl looked at the biker. "Louis...?"

Francis shook his head, then held Sarah tighter as the mention of the black man's name caused her to cry harder. Francis sighed. "Don't nobody say his name anymore. Not when she's around. No one deserves to feel a death like this."

Zoey and Bill both nodded in silent solemn agreement. Zoey leaned against Francis, and closed her eyes, Sarah quieting as she cried herself to sleep. Francis turned his face to Sarah's silky platinum tresses, and closed his eyes, falling asleep as well.

Bill watched them, and kept himself awake. Someone needed to keep watch, and though he was drop-dead tired, he decided he would. He'd wake Francis if it became too much. He sat up straight, and stared at the jar Zoey had been holding, what had saved Sarah's life from the Tank but doomed Louis. It was a jar of honey.

He cursed himself. He felt it was his fault the young analyst had died. If he hadn't been against running the distance, Louis would still be alive. He leaned back again, and stared at the ceiling, wishing he could rewind time and take it back.

But he couldn't. And as heavy thinking works, his eyelids drooped with lead-bearing sleep, and closed. He fell limp as he fell asleep, his cigarette drooping as well.


	2. Tell Us a Story, Grandpa

When Sarah woke up, Bill had already been awake for some time. Still blaming himself, he just stared at the jar of honey, his gaze lost in the amber liquid. He jerked in surprise when Sarah suddenly sat down in his lap, looking at him somewhat pleadingly. He frowned. "What?"

She looked back at the honey, then at him. "Fooooodd..."

Bill nodded. "Do you want me to open the jar for you?"

She nodded, and got off his lap, watching him. He groaned as he leaned forward, his aching body and stiff joints protesting. He pulled the jar over, then gripped the handle, and popped the seal, twisting it off. He offered it to the Witch, but she sat in his lap, looking at him expectantly. He blinked. "Well, what do you expect me to do?"

She grabbed his hand. "Hheelp meee... I caaan't..."

She poised it over the open jar mouth, two fingers in it. He sighed deeply, then nodded. "Very well."

He dipped his fingers into the honey, then pulled them out. Sarah leaned forward, and closed her lips around them, licking and sucking the honey off. Bill gasped softly at the force of her sucking, feeling like he'd just stuck them in a vacuum cleaner. "Just like the foals on the farm..."

Sarah looked at him, licking her lips, then leaned in and cleaned the honey off his fingers again. Soon a soft smile touched his bearded lips, his ash-gray eyes brightened. He didn't notice Francis waking, and jumped when the big biker spoke. "I think that's the happiest I've seen you, Grandpa Bill."

Bill frowned. "Don't call me that."

Sarah whimpered softly, reminding him of her and the honey. He looked back at her, the smile reappearing, and started feeding her again. Francis watched them, his elbows resting on his knees, smiling himself. "Ya know... I never really liked kids before, but... She's different. She makes things okay."

Bill sighed. "Temporarily."

Francis nodded. "Yeah, temporarily... But temporarily is better than nothing."

Bill nodded, and continued feeding Sarah until she wouldn't take his fingers. He looked at the jar - almost all of the honey was gone. He cleaned his fingers off, then closed the jar, blinking as Sarah hugged him, cuddling slightly. He sighed, and hugged her back. "Francis, wake Zoey up... Sarah obviously doesn't want me up..."

Francis nodded, then reached over and shook Zoey awake gently. She groaned, but sat up and opened her eyes, smiling once she saw Bill and Sarah. "You two look so sweet together."

Bill sighed deeply, his face suddenly grievous. Zoey frowned deeply, and stood, then walked over, sitting on the table. "Bill? What's wrong?"

He closed his eyes, and swallowed somewhat hard, closing his eyes for a moment. "She just reminds me of my own granddaughter..."

Zoey blinked. "You had a granddaughter? What happened to her?"

Bill sighed. "Well... if we have the time I'll go over the whole thing. I need to get it out, anyway..."

Zoey nodded, then went and sat on the couch again, cuddling up to Francis. The old war vet sighed again, and pulled up one of the most painful memories he had. "It was a few months ago... My daughter, Carey, and her husband, Michal, dropped their daughter, Elizabeth, off..."

* * *

_Four months before..._

_"Grandpa!"_

_Bill grinned, lowering to his knees as his ten-year-old granddaughter, Elizabeth, ran up the walkway and into his arms. He hugged her, then lifted her, groaning softly. "You've gotten so big, Liza. Maybe you should be carrying me, instead?"_

_He put her down, then reached up and gripped one of the horizontal support beams to his porch. Liza grabbed his leg, then lifted. He flexed his arms, pulling his aged-but-strong body up off the ground. He looked up at Carey, her bright face smiling as she walked up. "Carey, what've you two been feeding this kid?"_

_Carey chuckled. "Alright, Liza, let's put Grandpa down."_

_Her daughter obeyed, lowering Bill to the ground, then going inside. Carey walked up and hugged Bill. "Hi, Dad."_

_He kissed her forehead gently. "Hey. How're you and Mike doing?"_

_She smiled. "Oh, we're doing fine. Been busy, and expecting another as a result."_

_Bill grinned. "Really? Another? How far along are you?"_

_"About two months."_

_"Congratulations._

_Carey sighed. "Thanks again for agreeing to watch her, Dad."_

_He smiled. "You kidding? You know I like spending time with her. She's my granddaughter."_

_"Yeah, she also told me you called her your 'little angel to spoil'."_

_He laughed softly. "Well, she's that too."_

_Carey punched his shoulder gently, and he grimaced, clutching it. She put her hands to her mouth. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I totally forgot that was the shoulder you had surgery on!"_

_Bill shook his head. "I'm fine, Carey."_

_Liza appeared in the doorway, holding a jar of mix. "Grandpa! Can we make cookies today?"_

_Bill looked back at her, and nodded. "In a minute, sunshine. Grandpa's talking to Mommy."_

_"Okay."_

_He watched her walk back inside. He turned back to Carey inside. "Alright, Dad, we'll only be gone for a few days. Probably four or five. If you want, you can have us pick her up when we get back, or just bring her by yourself at the end of break."_

_He smiled. "I think I'll go with the second."_

_Carey nodded, and smiled. "Alright, see you then."_

_They kissed each other's cheek, and Carey left with Michal. Bill sighed, watching their truck drive away. He then turned and walked inside, getting ambushed by the ten-year-old with cookie mix. "Alright, let's go make those cookies."_

_Liza grinned and ran into the kitchen. He followed, taking the jar from her and reading the instructions that were in Carey's careful handwriting. He put the oven on preheat, then got what they needed. "Alright, Liza. Let's get working."_

_Liza grinned even wider than before, and they got to work. With and hour and a half, they had two tray's-worth cooling and two more in the oven. Bill had batter in his beard, thanks to his granddaughter, and it was on both their faces, also her work. He set to cleaning them up. "Let's try and be a little cleaner next time. I'm not the Gingerbread Man."_

_His granddaughter laughed. "Sure aren't. Gingy was fast - you're not."_

_Bill arched a brow. "I'm not? Who says?"_

_"But you're old!"_

_He grinned. "So? Why don't we go out back so I can show you?"_

_She hopped down. "What about the cookies?"_

_"They're on a timer. We'll hear the chime. I'll leave the doors open - sound good?"_

_She nodded, then ran out back. He followed. The backyard was spacious, plenty of room to run in. He walked to one end, beckoning her over. "I can't show you how fast I am unless we're racing. You ready?"_

_She nodded. "Go!"_

_She and Bill took off, running across the yard. She looked at him after nearly bouncing off the opposite fence. "How can you be that fast?"_

_He smiled. "Because Grandpa was in the Army. And he takes care of himself."_

_Liza smiled back, then raced inside the house as she heard the timer. Bill followed a little more slowly than normal, his knees protesting momentarily. He then helped her get the cookies out, munching on some with her. "Grandpa, can I have a glass of milk?"_

_Bill chuckled, and got her a glass, pouring the milk. She started dunking the cookies. "Don't eat 'em all, Liza. I'm sure Mommy and Daddy want some, too, when they come back."_

_His granddaughter grinned. "Okay. We'll leave... that tray for them," she said, pushing one of the fresh trays further away._

_He sighed and chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright. Should we put the cookies in a present for them? Or just a tray?"_

_She shrugged, dunking and eating her cookie. He looked at the clock - break or not, her bedtime was two hours away, eight o'clock. "Alright, Liza. What should we do for the next two hours?"_

_"Aw! I really gotta go to bed at eight?"_

_Bill nodded. "Yes, Liza, you do. We got a big day tomorrow."_

_She sighed. "Can we watch a movie?"_

_He smiled, and nodded. "Sure. What do you want to watch?"_

_Liza hopped down after finishing her fifth cookie, and searched through her movies. She pulled one out. "This one!"_

_He looked at it. "Zombieland... when did I...? Did you bring this from your house?"_

_She nodded. He sighed, and shrugged. "Okay... if you're not supposed to watch this, it's not my fault if you get in trouble once you go back home."_

_He opened the case, put it in the player, then turned his TV on. He sat down in his chair, grunting when Liza plopped down on his lap. He played the movie, falling asleep when the four reached Bill Murray's mansion. He jerked when he heard slow, heavy thuds on his window and door. He gently deposited Liza onto the chair, and went to the window, pulling back the blinds. He exclaimed softly, seeing the street full of people. More accurately, things. Fighting, gibbering, wandering... his window was cracked, three of the things, creatures, banging their hands on it dumbly, their eyes aglow, mouths bloody, skin pale white or dark gray. He quickly went to his room, grabbing his DEagle and tying the belt around his waist, pulling his Glock out as well. He heard Liza shriek, and bolted out, smashing the grip of the pistol into the being's head and grabbing Liza. The thing gurgled and fell, its skull crushed. "What the hell...?"_

_More shambled in, then exclaimed and let out a sudden burst of speed, running straight for them. Without thinking Bill pulled the trigger, emptying the clip into them. They fell, and he finished them off after reloading. He set Liza down, and she ran into the kitchen. "Liza!"_

_He ran after her, seeing her putting the tray of cookies into a tupperware bin. "I have to get Mommy's and Daddy's cookies!"_

_Bill closed the kitchen door, opening the door to his boiler room and hooking it on the handle so it wouldn't open. He turned his radio on, tuning it onto news, listening carefully. **"...news, a rabies-like virus appears to be spreading rapidly through the Pennsylvanian population. Officials warn people to not let the affected into their homes, or come into physical contact with the affected, as the infection seems to spread through bites and other wounds inflicted to the healthy. Through study of earlier-affected peoples, symptoms of this virus are: heavy sweating, fatigue, fever, shaking, involuntary muscle spasms, and the sudden inability to speak. While scientists are looking for a cure, it seems the only way of ending this is to end it - if avoiding the affected is not an option, officials ask you to 'please kill the poor souls, and put them out of their misery'. Extraction is set up at Mercy Hospital..."**_

_Bill lost it to static. He cursed softly, hitting his fist on the counter, then looked at the door. The wood was splintering and breaking as the Infected pounded on it. He growled. "Liza... stay close to me. We're gonna go get your parents and get out of here."_

_Liza nodded, holding tightly to the tupperware bin. Bill closed the boiler room door, then kicked the kitchen door open, unloading his clip into the Infected sprawled on the ground and thrown backwards. He reloaded quickly, then ran to the front door, picking Liza up and holding her. He started to leave, then backed up and went to his room, grabbing his combat knife. Tucking it into his belt, he ran out and to the left, knowing that they'd most likely be dead by the time he got his old truck started. He shot and melee'd any Infected that tried to stop them. He reached the end of the road, and stopped, trying to find his bearings through his old, adrenaline-fried mind. He jumped when he heard Liza scream, seeing that one of the Infected had snuck up behind them and buried its teeth into her arm. He kicked it away and unloaded half the clip into its head. He looked at her, then set her down and treated her arm the best he could. "You okay, sweetie?"_

_She nodded, sniffling. He tore his sleeve and tied it around her wound, then picked her up again. He started running again, trying to get them to Mercy. On the way, he heard a cough that was all too familiar - a smoker's cough. He choked and dropped Liza, being tugged backwards as something long and slimy wrapped around his waist and neck. He fumbled for his knife. "Go, Liza! The Hospital's around the corner!"_

_He managed to pull his knife out just as she disappeared from his sight. He unsheathed it, and sliced whatever it was that was holding him just as he heard gunfire and her scream. "LIZA!"_

_He ran his fastest, grabbing his pistol on the way, and rounded the corner, seeing her lying on the ground, the tub of cookies open and spilled, blood pooling around her. Three bloody holes marred her face, one on her forehead and the others sloppily put in her cheek and jaw. He dropped next to her. "Liza?"_

_Hoping against all hope, he put his fingers against her neck, then started crying. He gathered the cookies, then her, holding her until he found some place worthy enough to bury her. He placed the cookies on her chest, and did so. "I'm so sorry, Liza... I shouldn't've told you to run... I shouldn't'v'e told you to run..."_


	3. Hapless Happenstance

Zoey's green eyes filled with tears, Francis' arms around her tightly. "That's terrible..."

Sarah whimpered softly, looking at Zoey, then Bill, watching those aged stormy eyes moisten as well. A tear fell from them, and she put her knuckle to his cheek, catching it and looking at it. She then looked at Bill, her lips trembling slightly. "Lllliiizzaaaaa..."

Bill swallowed somewhat hard, and nodded, smiling slightly. "Yeah, that's right... Liza."

Sarah got off his lap, and he stood, sighing, grabbing his M16. "Come on... we're wasting daylight... rather a Wandering Witch than a sitting one."

The others nodded, standing up and collecting their weapons. Sarah watched them, hiding behind Bill when Francis reloaded and cocked his shotgun. The big biker sighed. "Sarah... I'm not going to hurt you... just the mindless vampires."

Zoey punched him softly. "For the last time, Francis... _zombies_, not vampires!"

Francis shrugged. "Same difference! Both are undead, both want to kill you - as far as I care, both want to suck your blood and eat you!"

Sarah blinked. "Vaaamp nooo eeaat hooomaaannsss..."

Francis arched a brow. "'Hoomans', huh? So we're hoomans now..."

He chuckled, and ruffled her hair, sliding his fingers through it. He knelt down. "Come on, Sarah... if we're gonna leave..."

Sarah shook her head. "Nooo... waaaallk..."

The Survivors arched a brow, looking at her. Bill laid a hand on her shoulder. "You sure? We're... Are you sure you can keep up?"

She looked up at him, and nodded, folding her claws over her chest. Bill sighed and nodded, Francis standing. They opened the door and started walking, rather surprised to find that Sarah could infact keep up. She was quite graceful in her walk, and she smiled nearly the whole time she was walking with them, humming even. It was a completely different individual than the one they'd picked up the previous night. Suddenly, she froze, cocking her head to each side, her eyes wide. Bill watched her. "Sarah...? What's-."

He froze, hearing the roar of a Tank. Sarah's eyes flashed, going from blue eyes to solid black orbs, the creepy amber glow appearing, the black orbs warming to amber, all in a matter of seconds. She screamed, not in fury but fear, turned, and ran into a warehouse. Zoey chased after her. "Sarah!"

Francis grabbed at Zoey. "Zoey, stop!"

But he missed. Francis and the war vet turned as the monstrosity made it over the hill, barreling towards them. They unleashed their army of lead, watching it create multiple red holes in the pink flesh. It growled, roared, and loped ever onward. They backed up, hoping to down it before it got close enough to hit them. Neither of them wanted to end up like Louis had...

* * *

Zoey ran in after Sarah, feeling a little bad for leaving Francis and Bill to take care of the Tank on their own. Louis hadn't made it, but there were two of them and they both had very good aim and powerful weapons. She'd turned and run out if she heard anyone scream in pain.

She chased Sarah through the warehouse, panting, surprised at just how _quick _this little Witch could move when running. She ran with her claws out in front of her as if feeling the air for a way to go, or perhaps just to catch and bounce her off anything she might hit. But the brief warm flash of light every now and then and the sound of Sarah's crying and screaming made it easy to follow her in the dark, and finally she heard the running cease. She stopped, resting on her knees to catch her breath, looking for the witch girl. She found her a few seconds later, collapsed in a corner, curled up with her hands pressed against her ears as if to block out sound.

Zoey approached slowly, setting her gun down a little further away so as not to scare her. "Sarah...? Sarah, it's okay. It's me, Zoey."

She crouched and inched a few steps closer, smiling kindly. She reached out to the witch girl, then froze. Those amber orbs turned to her, and she could tell... this was Sarah, but at the same time she wasn't. Sarah started growling at her, trembling, gritting her teeth and looking genuinely enraged. Zoey found herself unable to move, other than to stand with her. "Sarah, it's okay, come here."

The college girl took a step closer, and that was the last mistake she would ever make. Sarah's eyes widened to near perfect circles and she screamed in rage, eyes going more red than honey-colored. She swiped with both claws at the same time - her right claw missed but her left found deep purchase in her throat, sticking through. Zoey gasped and gurgled as Sarah tried to free her claws, splitting her throat open completely in four ragged crescents. Sarah's right claw whipped back around and smashed into Zoey's head from the side, and her nearly-lifeless body flew into the wall, a leg emitting a crack as it hit a shelf, a sickly crunch coming from her skull. She slid down the wall and stopped, slumped, blood trickling from her lips.

Sarah screamed again, claw dripping with Zoey's blood. She flexed them, then froze when she saw them, the amber quickly dying to give way back to blue. She blinked in confusion and horror, trembling as she started to cry, whirling around to see Zoey lying in the corner. She screamed again, this time in grief, and ran over, stuttering and mumbling as her hands hovered over her. Crying even harder, she reached up and closed her friend's eyes, rocking on her knees, lying her head on her stomach. She then froze again, hearing the slightly-hollower sound of an actual witch, walking toward the door. Casting one last glance at Zoey, she stood and walked that way herself, shuffling quickly, trying to catch her first.

* * *

Lucky for them, it dropped at their feet, literally, Francis scowling as blood and mud slopped up onto his boots. He turned around, looking for Zoey and Sarah, listening for them, hoping he wouldn't be hearing only the regretful sobbing of a Witch that had killed her target. He _had _heard several screams but he wasn't sure if he'd just been imagining them since he was worried, and fighting a Tank at the same time. But he didn't hear anything. "Zoey?" He whispered, stepping forward.

He heard a Witch's scream, crying out and racing backwards, stumbling and grunting when the Witch hit him. She raised her claws and started slashing, hitting his arms and chest. Bill raised his M16 to fire, but hesitated, thinking it was Sarah. Suddenly the Witch screamed in pain, throwing her claws up and her head back. She fell, Sarah standing behind her, the Witch's dark blood standing out against the brighter red blood on her claws. Bill frowned deeply, looking at the blood, then looked around. "Zoey? Where's Zoey?"

Sarah looked at him, whimpering, then started crying, looking at her claws with disgusted hate, trembling so badly they clacked together. Bill paused, fearing that the blood on Sarah's claws was Zoey's, then took off. "Zoey!"

He ran into the warehouse he'd seen both of them go into, then stopped dead in his tracks as he found her. Zoey was lying in a corner on the ground, one leg bent oddly, a series of smiles on her throat. Her eyes were closed, blood on them, indicating that Sarah had closed them. His gray eyes flashed in rage, and he turned around, walking back out. Sarah was trying to help Francis, who was still on the ground but very much alive. She looked up at Bill. "Biilll... I'mmm soorreee..."

Francis groaned, looking up at him. "Why're you sorry? Where's Zoey?"

Bill jerked his thumb back at the warehouse, fuming, the tips of his ears bright red, his jaw set. "In the corner back in the warehouse..."

"Why doesn't she come out?"

The war vet sighed, then roared, "Because she's dead, dumbass!"

Francis jerked up, throwing Sarah back, eyes wide and disbelieving. "What! How?"

Bill glared at Sarah, eyes like silver lasers. "Ask her."

Francis turned to Sarah, his eyes narrowing, and it was just then he noticed the lighter-colored blood on her claws. "Sarah?" '_Please God please let her deny it truthfully..._'

Sarah started crying harder. "I'mmmm sooorreeee... Ffraanciisss, I'm sorreee..."

That wasn't a denial. Francis drew his fist back and slammed it into her jaw. She shrieked and flew back, reaching up and holding her cheek, looking at him. "Ffraanciss... pllleaasse... I'mm soorreeee..."

He watched her, standing and groaning, holding his chest. "Sorry doesn't bring Zoey back, Bitch."

Sarah cringed, then curled up, crying into her lap and rocking, holding her claws away from herself as if she couldn't stand being attached to them anymore. Francis turned around, holding his chest and shotgun, and started limping off. Bill watched him. "What of her?"

"Leave her... she's just a zombie."

"I've never seen you just pass up a zombie, Francis..."

Francis paused, then turned around, pumping his shotgun. He walked back over, and held the shotgun to Sarah's face, looking down at the sobbing girl. She stared at the barrel, terror in her eyes, sorrow, regret, and apology there also. His finger tightened on the trigger, then loosened. He dropped the shotgun. "I can't..."

Bill nodded, and pulled his pistol out. "Well I can."

He aimed down the sights at the frightened little girl, and she stared back. He looked one last time into those bright blue eyes, and saw nothing but heartbreak and regret and apology. He blinked, the gun lowering a little, but then his eyes glinted and he raised it back up...

**_A flock of nearby birds rise up into the air, cawing in fear, as a single gunshot echoes through the city, catching the attention of a figure lurking not too far away. A ragged growl rises from its rancid throat as it searches for its next victims, red eyes piercing the darkness around it..._**


End file.
